


They'll Come Around, They Always Do

by sleepypoet



Category: Slipknot (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Come Eating, Crying, Dont ask just read, Dry Humping, Feels, Finger Sucking, It’s kinda crack tbh, M/M, Making Out, Nipple Licking, Nipple Piercings, Scheming, Seven Minutes In Heaven Game, Smut, They’re all literally 12 year olds, a pinch of fluff, ass eating lol, just all the nipple stuff, whoops, yeah it gets a little bit emotional
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:55:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28121967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepypoet/pseuds/sleepypoet
Summary: Sid is a goblin and Joey is his little scheming sidekick.
Relationships: Chris Fehn/Jim Root, Corey Taylor/Sid Wilson, Paul Gray/Mick Thomson, Shawn Crahan/Joey Jordison
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	They'll Come Around, They Always Do

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this instead of studying for my midterms uh oh
> 
> so yeah I'm just a little stressed but it's all good because I wrote a fic and now I feel accomplished
> 
> also if there's any typos, my bad, I wrote this in literally one day and I probably did not look over it very well.
> 
> i love it tho :)

(Iowa era bc it just makes sense)

Now, you’d think after being on the road for so long, with nine men crammed into a big metal tube with only one toilet in the back that doesn’t even flush, that people would be a little bit moody. Just a little. 

You’d think that spending a week with the same people, while getting to relearn their same annoying little habits (like picking their nose and flicking it on the floor of the bus, or snoring obnoxiously loud in their bunk), and having to constantly _smell_ them because some nights they don’t even get to shower, would really just get under people’s skin.

Yeah, well, Sid doesn’t work like that. He _lives_ for that shit. Can’t get enough of it.

So while everyone else is thrilled about finally getting a hotel night, a fucking _shower night_ , Sid is already scheming up a plan to get everyone in the same room. Preferably one with a closet, and with an empty beer bottle.

As everyone lumbers into the lobby, Sid skips ahead, rushing for the elevator. By now, the band is used to his antics, and they’re determined to not let Sid sway them into another one of his games. Which is harder than you’d think. The DJ is the first to reach the elevator, with Mick squeezing in last. It’s tense. Everyone’s tired and sweaty and they’re so ready for a good night’s rest, even if some of them have to share rooms, they don’t even care. One nuisance is better than 8 of them.

But as Corey spins around to get a head count, just to make sure they didn’t already lose anyone on the way here, he doesn’t miss the playful glint in Sid’s eye. Corey sighs. “No. No, we’re not doing this shit tonight, you’re gonna go the fuck to sleep and leave us be--”

Sid whines. “Come onnnn, pleeeeaaaasseee?”

Shawn scoffs and turns to look at Sid. “I don’t even know what the hell you have planned, but the answer is no, I don't wanna deal with this tonight.”

The look Shawn shoots at Sid is cold and icy, but he knows how to convince the clown to give in. It’s only a matter of time… 

The elevator comes to a stop and everyone’s scrambling to get to their rooms, leaving Sid standing there on his own. He huffs stubbornly, arms crossed, not willing to take no for an answer. They rarely ever get the chance to all hang out and have a good time on tour anymore. Everyone’s so busy and tired all the time, and all Sid wants to do is have a few drinks and maybe get his dick sucked. Is that so much to ask?

The man grumbles and trudges to his room. At least he has his roommate to mess around with… and that’s better than nothing. But wait, who’s his roommate again? Hopefully not Craig. Sid likes Craig, but… he doesn’t ever want to play along with the DJ. He’s just so _intimidating_ and _silent_ , and Sid’s only into that when he’s playing submissive. And tonight he isn’t playing submissive. Tonight he’s playing _little gremlin boy who wants to play games like spin the bottle and seven minutes in heaven because he’s literally 12 years old._ But then again, he wouldn’t really complain if he was forced to be Craig’s good little boy for the night… again. The thought makes his face flush red as he remembers what previous nights with Craig had often led to.

Or maybe he’s rooming with Joey. That would be preferable, for what he has in mind. Joey is spontaneous like him, and usually enjoys fooling around and going along with what Sid comes up with. 

He finally reaches his room, noticing the door slightly cracked. He nudges it open with his foot, glancing into the room and spotting Joey sprawled out on one of the beds, arms and legs outstretched like a starfish. The drummer looks up at Sid, a sudden mischief flashing through his eyes.

“Hey, come in!”

Sid smirks and sets his bags down, shutting the door behind him as he makes his way to his own bed. Him and Joey often get up to no good when they room together, and having the drummer with him tonight just makes things even easier. Sid’s sure they can both come up with a plan to get everyone together.

Joey sits upright and gives Sid a questioning look. “So, what'd ya have planned for tonight?”

The DJ shrugs. “Well, I was hoping to get everyone in here so we could play a few games, but no one wants to hang out…” He glances over to Joey, hoping he would catch on and offer to help. 

Joey doesn’t disappoint. “Mm. Yeah, games sound fun. Especially the ones you come up with… so, maybe I could help you round everyone up?”

Sid excitedly turns on his bed to face Joey. “You’d do that?? Man, you’re the fuckin best!”

Joey only grins and lets out a chuckle, before scooting himself off his own bed to sit next to Sid. “So, how do you think we should do this?”

The DJ stops to think. What would be the best course of action? He could always just go out and knock on everyone’s doors until they either tell him to fuck off or finally cave in, but… too many people would just say no. Sid flops back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Or, maybe they could call everyone? Joey can be rather persuasive when it comes to getting his way.

The drummer notices Sid’s frustration and furrows his brows. “Hm… how about…” he lets the sentence hang for a few moments, lost in thought, until his face seems to visibly light up. Sid can practically see a light bulb pop up above Joey’s head. “Why don’t we try making them jealous?”

The idea doesn’t initially impress Sid, and he looks up at the drummer, somewhat unclear. Joey continues, “No, trust me, it’s a good idea! We’ll show them how much fun we’re having and then they’ll wanna come over!”

That’s when it clicks. Sid sits up and Joey grabs his phone, opening up the band’s group chat. Sid jumps off the bed and bolts to his bag, fumbling around for the beers he brought. Joey smirks.

“Toss me one!”

Sid complies, throwing Joey a beer and opening up one for himself. “What, are you gonna take pictures of us to show off or something?”

“That’s _exactly_ what I’m going to do. They’ll all start coming one by one.”

Sid laughs. This man is a fucking genius. Bribe them with alcohol-- that’s something Sid needs to do more often. He climbs back onto the mattress and scoots close to Joey, holding his drink up to his mouth as the drummer snaps a picture of both of them. After a few more pictures (because Joey is convinced the lighting in the room is absolute shit, and if he’s taking pictures of himself he needs to look perfect), Joey sends them to the group chat, no context, no words. 

Sid and Joey both giggle at their little scheme, anxiously awaiting responses. And they wait… and wait… and wait… _and wait_. It feels like an eternity, though was probably only 5 minutes at the most.

Finally there’s a knock at their door, and Sid’s heart thumps excitedly as he rushes over to open it. Chris stands there, hands shoved in his pockets, a look of defeat on his face. Joey only laughs, commenting about how Chris always gives in so easily.

Chris scoffs and shuffles into the room, playfully snapping back with “Well at least I don’t have to wear skirts just to get the attention of the person I like!”

Joey gasps, clutching his heart in a fake-wounded manner. “How _dare_ you! And I’ll have you know that Shawn is usually the one who asks me to, I don’t _need_ to get his attention. I have it already!”

Chris snatches a beer from Sid’s bag and sits on the floor, opposite of Joey, who’s still perched on the bed. “Oh yeah? Then why isn’t he here yet?”

The drummer’s face flushes red. “W-well… he’s probably just tired, you know how he is.”

Before Chris can respond, Sid interrupts their argument. “Wait, now that we have another person, let’s take more pictures! They’re gonna see Chris here and everyone else is gonna want to show up!”

Chris rolls his eyes at the DJ’s childish antics but allows him to have a picture taken, a little blurry and rushed but you can still tell it’s Chris (kinda?), and he sends it to the chat. Lets it sit for a bit. And the three of them sit there, sipping their drinks, waiting for more people to show up so the party can _really_ get started. And then Sid’s phone buzzes, a message popping up from Jim. 

_”Is that Chris?”_

Sid grins from ear to ear and replies with _”I dunno, come over n find out!!!”_

So after a few minutes of waiting, another knock resonates from the door, quiet but loud enough for it to catch Sid’s attention. Joey jumps up with an “I got it,” and waltzes over to the door, and to no one’s surprise, it’s Jim. Well, Chris is a little surprised. More flustered if anything. Of course, Sid catches this, and to Chris’ dismay, calls Jim over. Because it’s so blatantly obvious that Chris is into Jim, and that Jim is into Chris, and Sid is so fucking tired of watching them pin each other constantly. So if these two are going to get together, it’s going to happen tonight, no excuses.

Jim blushes a bit at the sight of Chris, and the percussionist nervously chuckles. “So… they managed to wrap you up into this, huh?”

The taller man shrugs and squats next to Chris. “Yeah, you could say that…”

Sid and Joey just give each other a knowing look. How unfortunate, that they’re both horribly unable to flirt. It’s like watching two middle schoolers get assigned seats next to their crush. Joey pulls out his phone and takes another picture, this time typing a message to go along with it:

_”Someone come help these two, they’re actually hopeless.”_

And after about 15 minutes, everyone’s onto their second beer (at the least. Chris is halfway through his third already), and Sid’s walking across the room to grab some more, throwing the rest of the bottles in the mini fridge. As he makes his way back to the circle of people on the floor, two more show up, entering the room without knocking. Paul and Corey saunter into the room, drinks already in their hands.

Sid looks at Corey incredulously. “I wasn’t expecting you to show up-- and where the hell did you get those drinks from?”

Corey shrugs. “Gas station. And Paul somehow convinced me that this would be fun,” he adds, shooting a half-serious glare at the bassist. Paul chuckles and throws his hands up in innocence. “Hey man, I just came here to have a good time!”

The two situate themselves in the circle, joining in on the conversation between the other three. Sid pounces onto the bed, phone in hand, and shouts a quick “Smile!”

Corey throws up a middle finger while Paul wraps an arm around him, Joey sticks his tongue out, and Jim and Chris smile _like normal fucking people_.

Joey looks around the room. “So who are we missing?” 

Sid does a quick head count. “Uhh, like, 3 people. Craig, Shawn, and Mick.” 

Corey scoffs. “Hah, yeah, good luck getting them to show up--”

He’s then briefly interrupted by the door swinging open, both Mick and Shawn walking in as if they just belong there, unfazed by the surprised looks coming from everyone in the room. Without uttering a word, Mick finds a spot next to Paul, and Shawn settles next to Joey. The drummer flushes a bright shade of red, suddenly shy.

Sid, on the other hand, is absolutely thrilled. Now with everyone together (well, _almost_ everyone), the real party can get started. Though it would have been nice if Craig had decided to show. The room is lively, everyone talking and laughing and drinking, and the sight makes Sid want to squeal with delight. But he doesn’t. He instead situates himself on the other side of Joey, giving him a high five in celebration of his genius plan.

He then speaks up, “Alright people, who has the most empty bottles? I’ll need one.” Everyone looks around, and all come to the conclusion that Chris has the most in total, already four beers down. Though Corey is a close runner up. Chris drunkenly slides one of his glasses to the center of the circle, head leaning on a very flustered Jim for support. 

Sid clears his throat. “So for tonight… I’ve decided to let you all choose which game we should play,” he announces mischievously. Corey groans, “That’s cruel, man. Making us pick our own torture-- ow!” He clutches his side where Paul had roughly nudged him with his elbow. Paul speaks up, ignoring the nasty look Corey gives him, “So what are the options?”

The DJ stubbornly crosses his arms. “I was just about to get there, before I was so rudely interrupted!”

Shawn impatiently huffs. “Just get on with it, man.”

“Ok, ok! Geez, you guys are moody. I promise this is gonna be fun,” Sid claims defensively. “Your options are… spin the bottle _or_ 7 minutes in heaven!”

After a moment of silence, Joey laughs. “What, _that_ was your big plan for tonight? I was expecting a fuckin orgy with the way you were hyping this up!”

Sid, now slightly embarrassed, chokes out “W-well, we don’t have to be so extreme every time we get together… I just wanted to have a fun little night, feel like a kid again!”

Jim nods his head in agreement, still a little red with Chris leaning against him. “I mean, don’t see a problem with it. We’re all fuckin drunk, might as well make the most of it, ya know?”

Joey shrugs. “Yeah yeah, I guess you’re right. At least I’m getting someone’s mouth on mine either way…”

Now with everyone in agreement, Sid asks again. “Now choose! Cuz we can only play one.”

The bandmates take a moment, looking around to gauge everyone’s reactions. Chris is the first to speak up, words a little slurred. “Hmm… I’m liking the idea of 7 minutes in heaven…” Jim looks down at him and agrees, “Well, if that’s what he wants, it’ll probably be fun. So I’m down.” Chris gives Jim an appreciative look, then quickly averts his gaze away from the green eyes, suddenly timid.

“Oh my god, what the fuck is going on between you two?? You both have literally fucked countless times and you can’t even fucking _look_ at each other without getting all mushy and shy! I just don’t get it!”

Everyone stares at Joey, somewhat surprised by the sudden outburst. Chris immediately sits up straight, then regrets it when his vision starts spinning, instead opting to lean against the wall behind him. Jim looks as though he wants to make a movement, but instead he just sits still, not sure what to do with his body.

Surprisingly, Mick is the one who speaks up. “Oh come on, Joey. How can you say that when you’re practically the exact same way with Shawn?”

Joey’s mouth clamps shut in defeat. Shawn doesn’t comment, only stares at the glass bottle in front of them, deciding, “I can do 7 minutes in heaven. What about you, Jo?”

Thankful for the change of subject, Joey pipes up, back to his usual outspoken self. “Of course I’m in! I could do either game, honestly.”

Paul and Corey look at each other, and Sid swears it’s like those two are telepathic or some shit. They’re like twins, always knowing what the other is thinking. Paul grins. “Agreed. I think Corey’s down as well. That just leaves Mick, yeah?”

Mick shrugs. “I could care less. I’m not gonna go out of my way to disagree with anyone.”

Sid excitedly bounces his legs. “So it’s decided! We’re playing 7 minutes in heaven!”

The air in the room seems to change a bit, full of anticipation. The DJ reaches forward to spin the bottle, watching it in a blur. It slows, landing on Corey. The singer breaks into a grin. “So you’re just gonna take all this time out of my night, _and_ force me to make out with you? Don’t expect me to be gentle the next time you and I get together.”

Sid gulps at the implications. Everyone else shouts “Ooooooooh” in unison, the way kids do when someone in class gets in trouble. Chris then chants in a mocking tone, “Sid’s gonna get his ass beat! Sid’s gonna get his ass beat!” 

Sid, now blushing bright red, points an accusing finger at Chris. “Says you, Mr. Chris ‘I wanna jack off while someone spanks me’ Fehn!”

Chris gasps and Shawn sniggers at his reaction. “You know it’s true, Fehn, you’re such a fuckin masochist.”

Jim seems to stir a bit at the words, shifting in his position. Chris remains still, hands coming up to cover the blush on his cheeks. “Fuck off, man… just go do your stupid little 7 minutes…”

Sid stands up and spins on his heel, making his way to the closet with Corey following close behind him. Very close. Breath on his neck type of close. He stops in front of the doors, suddenly intimidated by the singer’s presence. He can feel everyone’s eyes on the two, watching them intently. Sid extends an arm to open the closet door and immediately jumps back into Corey, screaming.

“OW-- shut the fuck up man, what the hell are you--” Corey’s eyes go wide for a split second. Bewildered, he shouts, “Craig?? What the fuck, dude? How long have you been in there?”

Craig only grins from his spot in the closet, his motives unclear. Sid shivers, creeped out but also a little turned on because yeah, how long was he there? Just watching everyone, like a fucking predator. Sid finds himself enjoying that thought much more than he should. He speaks up, “Man, we all thought you were asleep or some shit!”

Everyone else in the room, at a loss of words, just stares at the man. Craig simply mumbles, “Wouldn’t wanna miss a night like this,” and walks over to sit with the rest of the group. “I’ll just watch, don’t mind me.”

Corey and Sid both look at each other, still bewildered, but then they just laugh it off and fumble into the tight closet. The door shuts behind them, darkness enveloping the two. The DJ feels his nerves creeping up on him, unsure of how to initiate things. Not quite sure what direction to take things in. Does he get on his knees? Should he just kiss him and let it go from there?  
Instead, Corey makes the first move for him. He brings up his hand to cup Sid’s cheek, soft and sweet. It’s a side of him that Sid rarely sees, but when it does come out, Sid absolutely loves it. Loves how gentle the touch is, how meaningful it is. Sid leans into the touch, his breath slowing and body relaxing into the tranquil moment. Corey then dips his thumb into the parting of Sid’s lips, dragging it across the sensitive pink flesh, slow and teasing. He tugs down a bit and Sid obediently opens, relishing in the feeling of the other man pressing against the warm inside of his cheek and down on his tongue. Sid whines, curling his tongue around the finger, sucking it obscenely, gazing up at grey-blue eyes. He loves the way Corey tastes-- his lips, his fingers, his… everything.  
Corey groans deep, “ _God_ , I wish it was my cock in your mouth right now…”   
Sid whimpers again, swallowing hard as drool builds up in his mouth at the thought of sucking Corey’s dick, coating his thumb with the clear fluid. Corey pulls out and replaces it with two fingers instead, suddenly shoving hard, causing Sid to choke and gag. Corey chuckles darkly, having had enough with being soft and gentle, and does it again. He watches as Sid retches, on the verge of vomiting up everything he drank. Sid gasps, lips coated in saliva, and Corey pulls his hand away, wiping it off on Sid’s shirt. He cringes at the feeling, but spit really isn’t that bad when compared to the vast amount of other fluids that he’s dealt with-- _especially_ with Corey.   
He can barely make out the singer’s expression, only his eyes, full of lust and a dark desire. Corey’s gaze pierces right through him, intense and unnerving and Sid can’t take the eye contact so he’s bringing his hands up to run through Corey’s hair, smashing his lips onto him with pure need. His eyes squeezed shut, Corey’s arms wrapped around his torso, feeling him up and down, groping his ass hard-- Sid knew the soft side of Corey wouldn’t last very long. Sid squirms when Corey brings his hands back up to roughly grab at his waist, his sides sensitive from bruises but the pain shoots straight down to his cock and he throbs hard against the rough denim. Sid loves the pain, the pain makes everything feel so much better.   
Sid moans into Corey’s mouth, breathy and wanton and desperate for more, and Corey takes the opportunity to slip in his tongue. It’s hot and desperate and _so fucking wet_ but Sid loves it, he loves choking on Corey’s tongue when he shoves it too far back, he loves Corey’s warm hands on his body, he loves the sounds the singer makes when Sid ruts up into him.  
Corey pulls away, both of them gasping for air. “Fuck, Sid, you’re such a good boy… so good for me…”   
Sid whines when Corey nudges his thighs apart with his knee, adding a slightly uncomfortable pressure to his balls but it’s so good because it’s something for him to grind down on. Corey dives back in, trailing wet kisses along his jawline and down the side of his neck. He pauses at Sid’s vein and sucks hard, causing Sid to gasp and grind onto Corey, harder, faster, and he can feel his orgasm begin to pool in his stomach, a warmth spreading through his body and Corey moans more praises into his ear, and _fuck_ he’s so close--

The closet door swings open without warning, bright light from the room pouring into the tiny space. Mick is standing there with a stupid grin on his face, everyone else stopping conversation to focus their attention on Sid and Corey. 

“Oh my god, you should fucking see yourselves right now--” Mick chokes out, and Paul doubles over in laughter from where he’s sitting. 

Corey has Sid pinned to the wall with one of his hands shoved in his pants, knee pressed up between Sid’s thighs, while Sid still has both hands fisted in Corey’s hair. They’re both paused like a deer in headlights, eyes wide and startled. They hurriedly scramble to collect themselves, Corey quickly shoving past Mick, muttering a quiet _shut your mouth_ to Paul. Sid, still recovering from the series of events, stumbles out of the closet to take his place by Joey. 

Joey cackles at the sight of his disheveled friend. “Dude, _ew_ , you have spit all over your shirt, what the hell did you two do in there??”

Sid nervously chuckles, not sure if he should answer while intense blue eyes burn holes into the side of his head. “Haha… well… I dunno, I mean… normal stuff. Uh, are you sure that was seven minutes? It felt a lot more like two…”

Jim snorts. “Oh, we’re pretty fucking sure, man. Time flies when you’re having a good time, huh?”

“Y-yeah, guess it does… Anyway… who’s up next?”

No one wants to offer after seeing what the two previous men were caught doing, worried they would suffer the same embarrassing fate. Sid groans in frustration. “Oh, come on, it’s not like we haven't all seen each other naked. Getting caught is part of the fun!”

Mick laughs again. “Yeah, _right_ , I doubt that’s what you were thinking just a minute ago!”

Sid sits there for a moment, stumped, before a twisted thought pops up in his head. He smirks deviously, and Mick raises a questioning eyebrow at the sudden change of expression. “Oh yeah, Mick? Why don’t you see for yourself?” Sid tosses him the bottle. “Give her a spin.”

Mick hesitates for a moment and Sid swells with pride-- making the usual stubborn and level headed man falter for a second is not an easy feat. Both Chris and Joey’s mouths shape into little o’s as they watch Mick spin the bottle. It seems to go on forever before finally coming to a stop, landing on… 

“Paulie!” Sid shouts with delight.

Paul suddenly jolts up, not having been prepared for the bottle to be pointed at him. “O-oh, me?” He glances at Mick, who’s already heading for the closet. “Wait-- wait for me!” 

The brunette stands up and quickly follows Mick into the dim room. He squeezes in, catching a humored look on Corey’s face before Mick shuts the door behind him completely. They both stand there for a minute, waiting for conversation to start back up between everyone else, before finally focusing on each other. Even though Mick can barely see Paul, he can feel the warmth radiating off of him, like little rays of sunshine. It makes him smile. “You know something I’ve always liked about you, Paul?” The question initially catches Paul off guard, not being used to getting compliments from the large man. “Hm?”  
“How fucking _warm_ you are. You’re like, a walking heater… both inside and out.”  
Paul can’t help but grin. He remembers the first time he ever hooked up with Mick, the man had been going on about how warm he was, while he literally pounded into him. It’s one of his fondest memories to this day, just because of how strangely wholesome it was. And wholesome was the last thing he had been expecting from Mick. “Oh yeah?” Paul questions, stepping a little closer to Mick, standing up on his tiptoes so his mouth can reach his ear, just barely brushing against it. “I’m all yours, baby…”  
Mick exhales softly and nuzzles his face into the crook of Paul’s neck. He’s not usually one to show affection like this, but it’s different with Paul. It’s always been different with Paul. He’s like the fire to his ice, melting away any defenses and barriers. Like the sunshine to his rainy days. Mick wraps his large hands around Paul, and Paul kisses his ear, light and gentle. He’d stay here forever if he could, without a worry in the world, with Paul in his arms. But this isn’t the time for cuddling-- no, this is 7 minutes in heaven, and even though this already feels like heaven, Mick wants more. Mick _needs_ more. And he can tell Paul does too, with the way his breath hitches every time Mick’s hands pull him in a little closer. “You know what else I’ve always liked about you?”  
Paul just shakes his head, pulling back to look into Mick’s eyes. Mick smirks, reaching his hands up to Paul’s chest, twisting his fingers. Hard. “These.”  
Paul’s eyes widen and he throws his head back, thunking against the wall. He pleads breathily, “ _Fuck_ , baby, do that again, please--”  
Mick twists a second time, the metal rings firm between his meaty fingers. Paul moans loud and his mouth hangs open, panting and pleading for more. Every twist and tug feels like an electrical shock shooting throughout his entire body, driving him mad. His dick twitches and Mick leans in, planting soft kisses along his temples and cheeks while Paul squirms below him. Mick only pulls back for a second to tug off Paul’s shirt, quickly diving down to take one of his nipples into his mouth. And Paul swears he saw stars right then, Mick’s tongue swirling and flicking over the erect tip with one of his hands working on the other. Paul bucks up but Mick’s free hand roughly shoves him back against the wall, forcing him to stay still. It’s like fucking torture, but it’s _good_ torture, and Paul can’t get enough of it. Warm heat up against his chest, teeth pulling at one of his rings, calloused fingers stimulating his sensitive nipple. It’s all so much, so good, and Mick begins to palm himself through his pants, only to relieve the tension. Because right now he’s not focused on his needs, he’s focused on what Paul wants, so he grazes his teeth against one of Paul’s nipples and Paul mewels, hands frantically grabbing at Mick’s shoulders, at anything, eyes rolling back in pleasure--

He didn’t realize what was wrong until Mick stopped what he was doing, turning his head towards the now wide open closet door. His heart skips a beat as his eyes meet his bandmates’, all staring at the pair with little shit eating grins on their faces. 

Mick stands up and grunts at Sid, who was the one who had opened the door in the first place. “Fuck are you looking at? It’s not like you proved me wrong or anything-- it’s no fun when you get caught.” He then hands Paul his top and finds his way back to his spot without uttering another word. 

Paul slips back into his shirt and gives Mick a smile once he settles next to Corey, an attempt to comfort the aggravated man. Sid laughs, claiming, “Yeah, but it’s fun for everyone else!”

Shawn speaks up for the first time in a while, raising an eyebrow at Mick. “Can’t say I expected you to be the one on your knees, big guy.”

Mick snarls, suddenly defensive and slightly embarrassed. “I’ll fucking tear your mouth off if you don’t shut it, _clown_.”

“I’m not scared of you, we all know how soft you are on the inside--”

“ALRIGHT who’s turn is it?” Joey interrupts, hoping to stop the bickering before the situation gets any more heated, and someone ends up in a hospital bed. Violence is only hot sometimes, and in this particular situation, Joey comes to the conclusion that it would indeed not be hot. “Actually wait, can it be my turn? I’m ready to get someone’s hands on me.”

The group laughs at Joey’s bluntness, and Joey doesn’t wait for an answer before he’s snatching the bottle out of Sid’s hands and spinning it with a wild enthusiasm. The bottle seems to stop almost perfectly on Shawn.

Sid wiggles his eyebrows tauntingly at the drummer, who’s now feeling as though he has bitten off more than he can chew. But Shawn is already giving him _that look_ , the one he can say no to, and Chris whistles as the two head for the closet. 

“Someone better make sure those two don’t make too much of a mess…”

Joey would have turned around to tell off whoever made the comment, but Shawn has him by the wrist and is tugging him into the room, loudly shutting (and locking) the door. The sound of the lock clicking shut makes Joey’s mouth go dry. He always loves fucking around with Shawn, but this time it’s a little different. Shawn looks _hungry_ tonight. And Joey is all for it, he’s fucking scared and his stomach is twisting into knots but oh, he is all for it. Here’s here for it, so here that he’s already stripping down naked for it. He knows they only have 7 minutes, they both know that, but he’d be a fool if he thought that little factor would hold Shawn back.  
Shawn is mumbling little dirty praises, calling Joey his _perfect little slut_ , his _dirty fucking angel_ , and then he’s telling Joey to turn around, to get on his hands and knees. Joey knows exactly where this is going, and he is loving every second of it. Shawn soon kneels down behind him, without removing a single article of clothing. Broad hands are planted on his thighs, squeezing hard enough to leave bruises. Joey whimpers, tilting his hips up as he presses his face into the wooden floor. It’s cold, it’s uncomfortable, but it’s the anticipation that makes his dick leak needily. Shawn runs his hands up the back of his thighs before they reach his ass, giving a hard smack on his right cheek. Joey’s face flushes red, suddenly realizing the irony in having laughed at Chris earlier for this exact reason, but another hard slap pulls him out of his thoughts, coaxing a strained moan from the back of his throat. The abused skin tingles, and Shawn rubs his hands against it, causing Joey to quietly whimper. The older man spreads Joey’s ass, leaning close enough where Joey can fucking _feel his breath against him_ , and it’s driving him crazy. He pushes back, desperate, whining for Shawn to do anything, and Shawn decides to give him what he wants. Barely. A warm wet tongue meets his soft pink flesh, lapping at it, so gently. Joey bites his lip. Shawn adds a little more pressure, circling his hole, still not even dipping his tongue in.  
“P-please, Shawn--”  
Nails dig into his flesh.  
“D-daddy, ohmygod, _pleeeaaaasseee_ , I fucking need it so bad, need you inside me--”  
Shawn groans at the name, knowing that’s what Joey calls him when he _really fucking wants his way_ , and Shawn can’t possibly say no to that. Without warning he dives his tongue as deep as possible into Joey, the younger gasping sharply and shaking uncontrollably. “ _Fuck_ , thank you, I fucking love you, _ohh mygod_ \--”  
Joey babbles incoherently as Shawn fucks into him, eating him out, so far deep it makes him squirm. It’s so nasty and he feels so full, so wet and used and fucked out. He practically screams when one of Shawn’s hands reaches down to wrap around his throbbing cock, pumping him slowly, thumbing the slit. Shawn’s nails drag down his length, it fucking hurts, he _loves_ it.  
“Oooh, faster, faster, daddy _please_ , I’m so close--”  
The doorknob shakes, and someone outside grumbles about how that’s against the rules, you can’t lock the door, but neither Shawn nor Joey pay them any mind. Shawn picks up his pace, tongue rubbing against his sweet spot, hand working up and down Joey’s cock, squelching with precum. His orgasm crashes into him in hot waves as he spurts into Shawn’s hand, eyes rolled back into his head. Shawn pulls out of him and brings his covered hand up to Joey’s face, and Joey doesn’t even have to ask why. He laps up his own cum, obediently, and he can’t see it but he knows Shawn has a dirty grin on his face. 

After having his hand licked clean, without even giving Joey time to recover, Shawn unlocks the door and steps out as if nothing had just happened. Jim stands in the doorway, looking down at the drummer incredulously. Joey flashes a crooked smile. “What? I don’t care if anyone sees me like this, I’m into it!”

Jim snorts. “Well, that’s great and all, but get your ass up so we can finish the game.”

“Ughhh, _fine_.” Joey huffs and pulls his clothes back on (well, only his shirt. He tosses everything else on his bed) and crawls back to his spot, this time sitting on Shawn’s lap.

After noticing Joey’s disheveled look, Sid decides it’s better to just not ask what the hell they got up to. “There’s only three people who haven’t had a chance to go… Chris, Jim, and Craig.”

Chris and Jim exchange a look and Craig just shrugs, obviously not interested in playing.

“I mean… me and Jim could just do it if Craig isn’t playing.”

Sid clasps his hands together with joy. “Fucking-- finally! The tension between you two is _literally_ unreal. You guys have seven minutes to work things out. GO!!”

The two men hesitantly stand up at the sudden command, Jim following Chris into the closet. The door closes and suddenly it’s just them, alone, in their own little world. It’s dark, and all Chris can see is Jim’s eyes, wide and uncertain. It’s quiet like that for a while, nothing but eye contact. As if both of them are trying to figure out what the other is thinking, what the other is _feeling_. It’s tense. Jim is the first to blink. He glances away, staring down at his feet. “So… hey.”  
Chris exhales slowly. “It doesn’t have to be so awkward like this, you know.”  
Jim furrows his brows and looks back down at Chris, unclear on what he means. Carefully, Chris brings one hand up to rub his thumb against Jim’s cheekbone, the other falling to his shoulder. “This… this is nice, isn’t it?”  
Jim nods.  
“So then why can’t we just let it be like this?”  
The room grows silent again. Jim opens his mouth, as if he really wants to say something, to have an answer, but the words don’t come to him.  
“I-I don’t know.”  
Chris shakes his head, unsatisfied with the answer. “That’s what you say… every time, Jim. Every fucking time… I just want us to be together. I really do. Because what you and I have, it’s different from any other relationship in this band. Sure, we can all fuck around from time to time, but… Jim, you’re always the one person I look forward to. You’re so much more than sex to me, you’re… I want you to be… I want us to be…”  
His voice falters and cracks. He quickly withdrawals his hands to cover his face, to deny the embarrassment of crying over this. Jim’s heart shatters.  
“Wait, Chris, no, I’m sorry, I- it’s my fault, I’m the one with issues. You haven’t done anything, _I promise_ , you’ve been nothing but good to me. I’ve never had someone care about me the way you do. Please, look at me--”  
He grabs Chris’ wrists, pulling them away from his face. Chris doesn’t resist. Jim pulls him close, lets him cry into his chest, holds him there securely. He continues on, running his fingers through the percussionist’s hair, “I’m just scared. Scared of fucking this up and ruining things, and losing you. I don’t want to lose you.”  
His eyes begin to well up, and he embraces Chris tighter. “I’m so scared of losing the people I love…”  
Chris pulls back, looking up into Jim’s eyes. “I fucking love you, Jim. I can’t stand the thought of seeing you with someone else, so how do you think I feel? I’m hopelessly in love with you, I can’t help it. How can you say you’re scared of losing me when you’ve never even tried having me? When you’ve never tried being with me?”  
Jim finds himself at a loss of words again. He does want Chris. He has, for a long time. There’s just something holding him back. But he doesn’t want to be held back anymore. After seeing Chris break down, he doesn’t want to keep doing this to him. He can’t keep doing this.  
He slides one of his hands down to hold Chris’. Intertwining their fingers. Brings his other hand up to hold Chris’ head. Leans down to plant a kiss on his lips. A kiss that says everything for him. A kiss that says, _I’m sorry, I love you, I want to be with you and I want to be yours, want you to be mine, I love you, I love you, I fucking love you_.  
And Chris kisses him back with just as much passion, just as much meaning, and he’s crying again, because Jim loves him, Jim is all his, he is Jim’s one and only.  
They’ve both wanted this for so long, needed this for so long. Jim pulls back, resting his forehead on Chris’, their hands still entwined, as if permanently sewn together. His hand in Chris’ hair, Chris’ hand on Jim’s cheek. Hearts beating in unison.

A sniffle comes from outside the door. Jim and Chris both look at the direction of the sound, suddenly aware that someone may have been listening in on their conversation. Or many someones, for that matter. Jim twists the door handle and swings it open, but it only opens about an inch before thunking into something (most likely _someone_ ), a sharp “OW” resonating from the other side.

Corey groans. “Goddamit Paul, they heard you crying!”

Chris and Jim share an amused look as the door opens all the way, exposing the entire rest of the band, having been pressed up against the wall, listening in.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I just got emotional…” Paul chokes out, wiping the tears off his face. Sid, clutching the side of his head where the door had hit him, gives the two men an apologetic look. “Hey, sorry we invaded on your privacy… but we just had to know what the hell was going on between you two!”

Everyone nods in agreement, even Craig. Chris widens his eyes. “Wait, really? We had no idea you guys even knew there was something between us in the first place.”

The rest of the bandmates look at him and Jim, completely bemused. Joey facepalms, utterly taken aback by his two naïve friends.

Shawn huffs. “Well, I’m just glad you guys finally talked things out. Things could have gotten a lot worse for you two, as well as the band.”

Jim and Chris both nod, neither in the mood to point out that they shouldn’t be the ones being told off at the moment, when everyone else was literally just eavesdropping on them. 

Sid finally speaks up after a moment of silence. “Well! Now with that out of the way… how about we play--”

He shuts his mouth immediately after getting multiple glares from his bandmates. Even Joey shakes his head no. “Man, it’s like, 1:00 a.m. and I’m really fucking exhausted. I think it’s time we wrap this up.”

After cleaning up all the empty bottles and trash, one by one, everyone files out of the room. Chris and Jim end up leaving last, holding hands as they exit. Joey, completely drained after the events that just took place, flops back onto his bed, sighing in pleasure at the comfortable mattress. “Who’s idea was it to make us all sit on the floor again? My ass fucking hurts, and I even sat on Shawn’s lap for a good portion of the time.”

Sid shrugs, stripping out of his clothes and climbing into his bed. “I dunno. But hey, it was fun, yeah?”

Joey sleepily smiles. “Of course it was, you never disappoint. Tonight’s gathering was a definite success.”

Sid swells with pride, then deviously grins, remembering something Joey had said earlier that night. “Y’know what… maybe we can do that orgy thing you mentioned for the next time we all get together…”


End file.
